


Tick-Tock

by Dipdop_Pinetop



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adorable Mabel Pines, Alice in Wonderland References, Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Badass Mabel Pines, Crossover, Gen, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Wonderland Falls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dipdop_Pinetop/pseuds/Dipdop_Pinetop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shooting Star has fallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We All Fall Down

**_Down, down, down she falls._ **  
**_Past the toys and past the dolls._ **  
**_Through the floor and broken walls,_ **  
**_But no one hears her when she calls._ **

**_And through, through, through she goes._ **  
**_Head over heels and wrists over toes._ **  
**_Time itself seems to have froze,_ **  
**_For she's the one time had chose._ **

 

 

Dark was not a word that would be at the top of her list to describe the stark emptiness that seemed to thickly encompass her small frame. It was damp, it was chilly, it was even almost frightening as it felt she had fallen into the middle of a congealed mass of guck. Yet something inside of the young brunette kept in the back of her mind that even amidst the creepy darkness, she was safe. What a strange thought. She wondered why she would think it. Her knees were scratched up and slightly tingling with the burning sensation of having been landed rather roughly on, but once that initial discovery was made, Mabel realized that she was kneeling on a cold, hard floor. Was it wood? No, it wasn't stiff and rough enough to be wood. Tile? Marble? Perhaps the latter, as there was an interesting, bumpy texture to it, and scuffed her bared knees even further as she righted herself against the iced ground. Her palms went to steady herself and feel about her immediate surroundings, but she soon found that there was nothing within her vicinity that she could see with her hands. Why was it so dark? Was she asleep? Weren't dreams supposed to be painless? Or was this all just imagined pain searing her kneecaps? All of these were very good questions that flew through her frazzled mind.

 

  
All questions that were soon silenced as a pinprick of light shone through the blackness, glaring down at her with an odd sort of intimidation to it despite it being a golden glow no larger than the tip of a needle. And yet there it was, slowly flittering about the room haphazardly with no rhyme or reason, keeping Mabel's eye affixed to it like an angler fish hypnotizing its prey. It danced around her with a small trail of fading light behind it, almost as though the entire room were nothing more than black smoke that it was illuminating. She had to turn around in a circle multiple times to keep it in sight, and she could swear that it was actually growing. It was indeed actually growing, and steadily it became larger and larger until it was a rather fat, golden ball of light that was just content to roam about the confined space lazily. If only it actually cast a glow on their shared environment, then Mabel could have had the chance to see just what was around them.

 

  
"...Hello?" Mabel eventually got the nerve enough to ask, and found even the small sound of her own voice echoed around them as though she shouted. It sounded out of place, as though the reverberations didn't belong. How peculiar. "...What are you? You're really pretty, whatever you are."

 

  
"Hah, thanks!" came the response, nearly making the female brunette fall back onto her rear in surprise. Did the floating light just talk? Apparently it did. Curiously enough, Mabel didn't really think to pressure the orb for any more information on what it seemed to silently refuse to answer, as it only thanked her for her compliment. Best to keep it talking as much as she could.

 

  
"Where are we? Why is it so dark?" Mabel asked, quirking a brow as though that could be seen by the other in the utter black. She reached in front of her towards the floating light, only to have it shake and move further away as though it was denying a close proximity. It waited a moment before answering, making Mabel think that she had done something wrong. That should teach her not to simply break the touch barrier with a being of energy without asking first.

 

  
"You're in the most fantastical place imaginable! Everything you could ever hope to see and yet hope to experience is all bundled up in this magical land of...well, we don't talk about the actual name of this place anymore. You see, it sort of got rearranged and topsy-turvy and all sorts of madness ensued. Not that that matters to you though. Or does it? Does it pertain to your situation? Ah, but where are my manners?"

  
It seemed the darkness then encroached on the ball of light; a single sliver of black bleeding down from the top of it to slice through the center, splitting it in two. Mabel eventually realized it wasn't actually cutting the light apart, but rather the golden orb was an eye, and the black slit was the pupil. And it was staring right at her. Suddenly the lights were turned on in the small room they took refuge in, and Mabel had to quickly shield her eyes from the flash of white that blinded her. Her sleeved arm shot up to protect her vision, and she stayed like that as a small nasal laugh pierced her ears. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

 

  
"Hah, you meatsacks are all the same. With your sensitive vision and weird things like that. You should definitely invest in some better eyes, kid. But we're talking about things that either have too much importance or not enough, and I can't say I like the taste of either. Tastes like basil. Not the plant, the scent. Tastes like the scent. And I hate basil. Or do I? Have I ever even tried basil?"

 

  
The now-visible being of energy was in view, and Mabel had to do a double take to see if her newly adjusted eyes were lying to her. A floating, fluffy, long-haired black cat was hovering before her, with piercing golden eyes pricked with thin, black slits for pupils. On his fur were small swirls of what seemed to be pure gold, yet moved through each fur hair as though it were rippling through water. It was hypnotizing and indescribable.

 

  
"...Come to think of it, I've never tried basil. Is it like peaches? Juicy and crunchy and filled with- Ah, but we're getting off track. Welcome to Wonderland!"

 

  
"...Wonderland?" Mabel asked after a moment of taking in the sheer enchantment of this strange cat. She resisted every unrelenting urge she endured to reach out and pet it, finding herself no longer interested in where they were or how she arrived here or even how it was possible to return home, but she was rather just interested in whether or not the cat would let her hold it. Them. Something. Everything.

 

  
"Yes, Wonderland. The land of wonder. Or the wonder of land, but that doesn't sound as enticing, wouldn't you agree? Less...'oomf.' Now, I see you're seeing what you should have seen all along, but you're not really wondering why it is you're seeing what you're seeing now that you can actually see it, I see, you see? I see. But you don't see, because you do see. Or is it that I can't see? Are you making a mockery of me?" the cat squinted, but didn't seem to be interested in pursuing that line of thought. "Hm, all will be revealed in time but for now, I think that we should enter. Or would you rather live out your days in the waiting room? That can't be very fun, unless you find that sort of thing fun. Do you? I don't, and I'm impatient, so let's go."

 

  
For the first time since the lights appeared out of nowhere, Mabel finally realized she could see her surroundings. That cat had been far too interesting to look at anything else, really. True to her previous observations - or rather her literal shot in the dark - she stood upon a dirt encrusted, white marble floor that was only in a small circle in the middle of the even smaller room. Around the borders of the few, uncut tiles was especially dry dirt that seemed that it would stir and cloud up in a dust if it were disturbed, which probably was why the oddly placed tiles were so dusty to begin with. Looking around at the walls, she saw the colors of a dull navy and grey wall that broke off up above to what should have been a ceiling. Instead of any sort of roofing, there was simply an endless abyss of black settled perfectly above them. Mabel supposed that was where she had fallen from, though she honestly couldn't even remember the fall. She searched for the new light sources, but found that the room was simply illuminated on its own, and that she and the mystic cat didn't even cast a shadow. How strange.

 

  
"...Remember that part where I said I was impatient? Let's revisit that and shake a leg, kid."

 

  
Mabel turned her attentions from the only furniture piece in the room that was a small table that really could have passed for a stool off to the side, and returned her gaze to the cat, finally finding her voice somewhat normal again, despite her not having said anything yet. It was almost as though she could hear the sound before she ever produced it, even if her ears tried to tell her nothing had been said.

 

  
"...Where do we go? I don't see any doors. And what do you mean Wonderland? And you said something about madness, what was that about? What was the original name of this place? Why don't you talk about it? Why are you floating? And how are you getting your fur to do that? It's really pretty. And why did I fall? Where did I come from? Why is this the waiting room? Waiting room for what? And what -"

 

  
"Sheesh, let me get a word in edgewise, Star. Jeez. Calm down and take a breather," the cat groaned, obviously irritated that he was put out to have to explain everything in detail before they could get a move on. "Alright, how about we make a deal. I'll answer three questions now, and then we leave. There's much to do, and I don't feel like walking through the Briarwood Patch when it's dark and spooky out. Just me? Just me. So, three questions, no more, and then you'll just have to keep up because I'm blowing this clam-bake."  
The black cat with the endlessly swirling fur made a face of contempt at the brunette, making her blush slightly with embarrassment. She wasn't even in this new land for ten minutes before she was offending the patrons. Clearing her throat softly, Mabel took the suggested breather and calmed down, once more finding she didn't care about returning home as much as she wanted to know more about this new and interesting Wonderland. She carefully thought out her three questions, much to the cat's dismay, as that was just taking up even more time he wasn't interested in giving up. When at last she composed the three carefully, she grinned up at the levitating feline and couldn't help but lightly bounce on the balls of her feet.

 

  
"Okay, so, first question: how are you doing that with your fur? It's so pretty, and I really want to pet you," Mabel beamed, hoping that the cat wouldn't count that as two questions and force her to make a final one. Luckily the cat didn't, and didn't mind answering with the most simplest answer made available to him.

 

  
"Magic." Easily bypassing over the petting bit as though it was never even stated, the cat stayed as far from the brunette's hands as possible. He was still getting used to touch, and with a fur-encased body, it wasn't easy, nor was it readily welcome. He may have been a cat, but that didn't mean he was on board for being pet.

 

  
"...Okay, second question, then. What else can you do besides fly and make your fur look like that?" Mabel was really only interested in asking all the important questions. Sighing through his cat-nose, he shook his head slightly as though he couldn't believe the simplicity of these questions. They really were not what he was expecting, though he couldn't say he minded.

 

  
"I can shapeshift, but it's limited to what forms I can take on. Even magic has it's limits, kid. I can do parlor tricks and reheat your spaghetti leftovers, but off the top of my head, that's really it. I might be interesting, but don't be too interested. I don't show off my magic to just anyone." She supposed that made sense. Nodding, Mabel wondered what it would take for the cat to show her it's tricks, but she guessed that could be asked another time. "Last question, kid. Make it count, because I really, really want to get going."

 

  
"Okay, okay. Who are you?" Mabel asked with a tilted head, squinting her eye just a bit as she tried to place the voice. At her question, the cat's mouth changed from a slight grimace to a wide grin, contorting as it grew to an almost frightening sight. That was one madly happy cat.

 

  
"I'm the Cheshire Cat," he beamed with his toothy grin curling up past his eye sockets. "I'm the ins-and-outs of Wonderland, and can either make your stay heavenly, or hellish. Indulge me in my riddles and questions, and maybe I'll let you see the secret places of this place. Or not. It's really a 50/50 chance, and I have to ask, because it's simply burning me up inside to not know: do you feel lucky? Do you like those odds? Because I do, but I like even more that you used up your last question on formal introductions, Star. Now, without further adu, let's be off. I'm really impatient, and I'm even more surprised that I haven't already devoured you. Sweater and all. Now, let's go before I change my mind."

 

 

"Wha- wait! Don't go! How do I leave -"

 

  
But just like that, the black and gold Cheshire Cat rolled onto its side and disappeared into the very space around them; his terrifying, fanged grin still hanging in the air until Mabel's last syllable. She huffed silently and scuffed the toe of her shoe on the dirty floor, wondering just how she was going to leave a room that held no door. Thinking silently to herself, she realized she wasn't nearly as intelligent as her great uncle Ford, or even her twin brother Dipper. Either of them would've known what to do, but she was at a loss. How could she solve an impossible puzzle? Sure she could think on the fly and react well in dangerous situations, but she didn't have her grappling hook, and she didn't have the support of her brother or her two great uncles.

 

  
Where was Dipper anyway? Where was her family? But really, where was she? Mabel was alone, in a brightly lit, decrepit room without an exit, and only a truly odd entrance. Looking down at her knees, she saw where they had scraped when she landed, and winced when she poked the peeling skin. But there was no time to think on that now, as she needed to find a way out. Many minutes passed as she tried to figure out the solution to this puzzle, and couldn't help but wonder where the Cheshire Cat ran off to. Why did she have to solve this? Why couldn't he just simply tell her, or even better, escort her out to Wonderland? If even the waiting room had puzzles, just how bad of a time was she in for?

 

  
" _When in doubt, try some more, but if you find you can try no more,_  
_Go back to where you were once before, and there you'll find a different door._ "

 

  
Mabel quickly turned as the nasal-toned voice spoke in a riddle, and she realized it was the cat giving her a clue. He did say to indulge him in the riddles, didn't he? She really had nothing to lose, and really nothing else to do. Shrugging, she supposed it couldn't hurt, and began inspecting the room. The blue and grey walls were really just decaying wallpaper slapped hastily onto the dirt-bound walls, and Mabel realized that she was just at the end of a very large hole. It wasn't even a tunnel, it was just a massive hole. How weird. She pressed a finger to an unraveling edge of the paper, only to watch it bounce back in place despite her pressure. Nothing there. No super secret door hidden behind it.

 

**~**

 

  
It wasn't for a few more agonizing minutes during which she was sure that cat was pulling his own fur out in frustration, that she turned and saw the tiny table she had been looking at earlier. With resounding clicks of her shoes against the marble, the brunette crossed to the furniture and saw something new. Sitting neatly atop it was a small, grey metallic stand adorned with an even smaller plush purple pillow, and resting on that was an even smaller bottle with a rather large note attached to it, saying the words 'DRINK ME' in beautiful inked scroll-work. Everything about this was curious, and while Mabel didn't trust any of it, she supposed she had no choice since the Cheshire Cat was no longer speaking to her, and there were no other options. Uncorking the tiny bottle, Mabel had a difficult time holding the container no bigger than her fingernail as she pressed it against her tongue to coax out the liquid. It held nothing more than a single drop, and she wasn't sure if she even really swallowed it as she set down the now-empty bottle back onto the pillow.

 

Nothing happened, and Mabel felt like a complete idiot. Why would she drink a strange liquid that appeared out of nowhere? Why would she listen to a really pretty cat that wouldn't even answer every question she had, and seemed irritated with her curiosity, but yet was insatiable with his own? There were so many things to ask, and even many things to think about, but all Mabel could really do was beat herself up that she did something stupid that Ford and Dipper never would have done. They would have never let the cat leave, they would have refused to take the liquid, they would have -

 

Was the table always that big? Mabel craned her neck to look up at the base of it, suddenly noticing just how long those previously stumpy legs had looked just a few seconds ago. How had she reached the bottle on top of it at this height? Taking a true look around again, Mabel realized everything had changed as she was berating herself. What was small was now tall, though she wasn't the tall one anymore. Mabel was beyond confused, but surprisingly took in in stride.

 

  
"Oh dear pink flamingos you finally got it." The Cheshire Cat appeared once more before her, though now he was sprawled on his back in the air, content to grin at her upside-down. "And here I thought I would die of old age first. And I'm ageless! With your luck, I'd somehow manage it. Just for you. Now, now that you can see the world in a different view, per say, let's get going. Do you see the doorway now?"

 

  
Deciding not to comment on the pink flamingos quip or really anything else of what the cat said, Mabel turned around and reinspected the room, now set with a purpose of finding a door. It took much less time, which in turn made Cheshire very happy with the results, and soon the female brunette was turning the knob to a door that could have previously been no larger than a spool of thread. Following closely behind her, the black cat watched as bright sunlight spilled from the crack of the opening door, and darted out ahead of her once the opening was large enough. Mabel quickly swung it open the rest of the way, and stepped out onto a dirt path surrounded by tall grass on either side. It looked as though they were in the middle of a meadow, with the long blades bending under the weight of the gentle, warm breeze that seemed to carry pure sunlight on its back to warm her skin. On either sides of the path were borders of smoothed pebbles that acted as a line barrier for the grass to not grow beyond the boundary, though some small blades poked up on the dirt road regardless. Mabel glanced to the right and saw in the distance a long, winding river snake down from wide, rolling hills to feed into a stout lake brimming with reflected light off the navy ripples. To her left was a valley of more hills and grass, though wildflowers were blooming sporadically in different patches with their red, yellow, and bright purple hues poking out above the waves of light green.

 

  
"Welcome to Everglade Valley, kid," the cat smirked, content to watch her expressions as now they were finally moving again and progressing. Small spaces always made Cheshire feel a tinge uncomfortable, but really he was just mostly impatient and wanted to get a move on. When their eyes met again, Mabel couldn't help but return the smile, though hers was much more genuine and kinder than his smug smirk. How could a cat even manage to smirk? Cheshire somehow managed it.

 

  
"Is this Wonderland?" she asked excitedly. She hoped it was, since she couldn't really imagine it getting much better than this. It was relaxing and peaceful, and she wanted very much to take off her shoes and dip her feet into the blue water of the lake. Maybe Cheshire wouldn't mind taking a few extra moments to do just that.

 

  
"Yes and no," Cheshire cryptically stated, though for once, he had full intention of explaining himself. "Yes, this is Wonderland, but no, this isn't Wonderland. Not the entirety, anyway. There's so much more than this little clearing. We're not anywhere near the castle, even. If we're walking, expect months. If we make it in time, then we can get a ride and then it'll only be a few days. Wonderland is vast, Star. It never ends, and that's it's secret. Wonderland is alive. And it's always growing. Always. But what feeds it, I wonder. I've yet to find out, but if you find out before I do, please do me a solid and tell me. Tell me all you know. I do love to collect knowledge, kid. But there's time enough for that later. We have to make it through the forest before sundown, otherwise the beasts will come out, and you don't want to meet them. No, no you don't. Ugly. Beastly. Actually, they're pretty cool, but I don't think you want to see them. I like them. You wouldn't. So! Let's go."

 

  
Without another word, Cheshire moved and led the way down the path, soon disappearing into the air again once Mabel began to follow him. She paused for a brief moment before she realized she should just stay on the paved way she began on, and took to looking around and taking in everything as she walked. It really was beautiful, and maybe someday she could come back and feel the water, or see the wildflowers up close. For now though, it seemed she was heading on a winding path for whatever reason, and was steadily approaching the woods as the golden sun slowly sank down the far away sky. There was a castle? Did that mean there was a queen? Maybe the queen would answer her questions better than Cheshire did, though Mabel had to admit that the cat was interesting, even if he was a little cocky. He was an odd cat, but he seemed nice enough. Hopefully he wouldn't actually devour her. Just as the sun was about to reach the far-off horizon, Mabel finally reached the entrance of the wood, wondering just how big the forest was. Didn't Cheshire say something about beasts? He said they were pretty cool though, so maybe it was alright. Time certainly seemed to move faster here, unless she had just been walking too slow. So many things to think about.

 

  
And just like that, all thoughts of home were quickly abandoned.


	2. But Only Some Rise Above

**_The woods will stretch for miles and miles_ **

**_And all the while you'll be beguiled._ **

**_But don't stay still, my dear, sweet child,_ **

**_For the beasts are nothing if not wild._ **

****

**_They'll gobble you up and spit your bones,_ **

**_And place your head atop their throne._ **

**_So unless you want your own gravestone,_ **

**_You mustn’t ever forget your home._ **

 

 

 

"...Cheshire?" Mabel asked in an especially small voice, uncertain if she should breach the boundary of the thicket since it seemed so close to dusk. She wasn't interested in really battling anything of the sort right then, even if she knew she could take them down easily enough. At least her heart was confident in her abilities, even if her body wasn't exactly on the same page. If only she had her grappling hook still with her. She rubbed her arm tentatively as she glanced between the greying wood and the sinking sun, wishing the cat would just reappear and they could make camp in the serene meadow. Maybe they could even go back into the waiting room, and not have to face any beasts tonight. Or any night.

 

"How far is it that we have to go? Maybe we could just stay here tonight. I can get some wood and we can have a nice campfire, and you can answer some more of my questions," Mabel asked, obvious in how much she didn’t want to traverse the forest. Her idea seemed like a good one anyway, especially since it was somehow getting colder the longer she stood in front of the Briarwood Patch. An aggravated huff was heard from the stillness before the cat reappeared right in front of her face, causing her to flinch and slightly recoil back in surprise. He had an expression that couldn't be mistaken for amusement, and if anything, it was an expression consisting of nothing but disdain.

 

"See, this is why I wanted to get a move on, but no. You just **had**  to go and spend so much time to waste on everything and anything you could, right? Right. I blame you. You're the reason we're having to now walk through the woods at night. It's all your fault. So thanks for that, kid."

 

"Wha- it's so not my fault!" Mabel countered, her eyebrows furrowing as Cheshire became sullen and pouty. "If it was so important we not waste any time, why didn't you just tell me how to shrink down, or even just show me the way out! It's your fault! You knew about the woods and how we needed to save time, so this is your fault!"

 

"I -" Cheshire began and ended, his agape mouth closing into a tight frown. She had a point, even if he wasn't about to give into it. "...You should have asked me."

 

"You left me alone!"

 

"That's beside the point! The point is, we have to make it through the forest no matter what time it is. The beasts wander out into the clearing anyway, so we wouldn't be safe here either. At least in the woods we have a better chance of getting to safety."

 

"...Why don't we just go back into the waiting room? Where we just were?"

 

"...And where do you suppose that is?" Cheshire asked, one paw folding neatly over the other as he smirked down at Mabel.

 

"What do you mean where do I suppose it is? It's right back -" Mabel's voice cut off, as she was pointing back to the beginning of the path that once held the entrance of the hole she fell down. In its place was nothing more than the beginning of the dirt path, and surprisingly, no hole. All she was really gesturing to was the clearing, with the vivid hues of the sunset bleeding out into the indigo night. Her hand stayed pointing at nothing for a moment, until it fell to her side and she turned back to the cat with a questioning look on her face. All she was met with in response was a half-chuckle and a slight shake of the head.

 

"Wonderland is alive, Star. It's best we keep moving."

 

Without another word or further explanation, the black cat with the golden swirls began floating ahead, waiting briefly for the preteen girl to catch up before beginning to pave the way through the winding thicket. The scraggly branches loomed overhead, bare of any leaves or any sign of life. It almost seemed as though the trees never held any leaf, since the forest bed was cleared of any dried remnants. All that was there was darkened, brown dirt with greying roots poking up sporadically along the narrow path, threatening to trip any careless passerby. It should have been peaceful, but Mabel couldn't shake the feeling that something was nearby, just watching them in silence from the shadows of the dying sun. Just how thick was this forest if the thin, spindly branches were even blotting out the colorful sunset? Each footfall was a slap against the hard, abnormally dry bed of the wood, causing soft billows of dust clouds to rise whenever a step was taken. It seemed as though that was aiding in the appearance of the building fog slinking around the tree trunks, that Mabel could swear wasn’t there before at the entrance of the wood. The puffs of translucent white was like water as it swirled with each slight air current, though it laid close to the ground as it moved. The deeper they went into the woods, the more the Briarwood Patch seemed to swallow them whole; erasing the very path that they had entered from. At least Cheshire seemed to know the way, even if Mabel couldn’t tell if they were making any real progress. The further they traversed, the heavier the fog began to roll in; soon it came up to the girl’s kneecaps, then her waist, finally encasing her shoulders and head within a matter of minutes. It would have been frightening if it weren’t so strange, keeping her mind preoccupied for a short while until new questions rose in her mind. In a lot of ways, Mabel was like her twin brother, even if she didn’t really want to admit it. He was such a nerd anyway.

 

"...So, how did I fall, anyway?" Mabel broke the silence, causing Cheshire's ear to twitch slightly as his concentration was shaken for a moment. "Sorry...I just was wondering, because I can't remember my fall. But there's no other way I could have gotten there besides falling, right? I mean, that giant hole, no door, me being huge, you know. The important stuff. That would just be weird, even for this place. Which reminds me, am I still small? Or am I normal size? Or did I arrive even taller than before and now I’m my regular size? Also, is this the other side of the bottomless pit? I can’t think of how else I would get here. I don’t remember really anything before now. Besides landing, of course."

 

The girl really could speak when she wanted to, couldn’t she? Maybe she was finally relaxing and warming up, and she was really just a talkative person in disguise. That might be fun. Cheshire glanced behind him to look at Mabel for a second before his attentions were back on their immediate surroundings as they trudged forward. He supposed it couldn't hurt to answer what he could, since Mabel seemed nice enough. She didn't look the type to just take the information given to her and use it against others. Then again, maybe he was just a poor judge of character.

 

"I'm not sure how you fell," he admitted, flicking his head to the side when he thought he heard something in the distance, finally settling back to looking forward and continuing their conversation. "...But I do know that once one enters Wonderland, they can't go back the way they came. It's always changing, and there are only a few constants in this world. I'm one of the few that can see the changes, and can then help others on their way. I just find it more fun to give them riddles to work with, since I have nothing better to do. Am I getting too chummy? Perhaps. I don't know what your bottomless pit is, so I can't say yes or no. I'm inclined to say no, but it just as well may be yes."

 

Listening to the cat, Mabel nodded every now and then even though he wasn't really paying attention to her responses. He was nice enough to not speak in riddles in that answer, and it didn't go unnoticed. Mabel was appreciative of the coherency granted to her for even just a brief moment.

 

"Oh, so wait. What do you mean you can see the changes? What, do you have like, a third eye or something like that?” Mabel squinted, trying to see if there was indeed a hidden eye on the cat’s person. “Or what? Intuition? Do you help make Wonderland change? How does it change? Like back there with the waiting room suddenly gone? And why do you call it a waiting room? I’m asking a lot of questions at once, I know. But I totally demand you answer them all. I like chummy, so let’s be chummy.”

 

Mabel grinned a wide, friendly grin at the cat as a means of expressing her desire to be friends, though the cat really wasn’t even paying attention to her. He seemed aloof, as though he were thinking on something in addition to ensuring their safety. As the brunette reflected on that, she dropped the smile and cocked her head at Cheshire, wondering what it was a cat even thought about. Rather, a magic cat with magic abilities that probably had even more interesting thoughts than her own. She wasn’t a magic cat with magic abilities, after all. After a long pause that truly seemed like he had simply been ignoring her, Cheshire finally spoke up again, though his voice was much lower than before, almost as though he were transcending into a whisper.

 

“…Wonderland is alive, kid. It changes. I don’t make the changes, but I can see the changes, before they’re made, sometimes. Though often times I see the changes only after they’re made. Essentially…it’s like one of those puzzles where you see two of the same images, only the second one has discrepancies the first one doesn’t have, and that’s how you win. You spot the changes. Imagine a Wonderland picture as a before image, and then an after image. I know what Wonderland looks like before, and each before and each after, but only those that have come to pass. Sometimes. Sometimes I’m able to see the future puzzle and solve it before it ever even happens. The fun part is when it never happens and you solved the puzzle for no reason. Fruitless, right? It’s like eating popcorn you never even made. In Wonderland, anything is possible. There is no rhyme or reason, yet there’s logic. Isn’t that strange? You can explain away the whys and hows and how comes, but you can’t really say it makes sense. And yet you have evidence to help explain it all. Wonderland is chaos in manifestation, which is also what I am. I have no rhyme or reason, and yet I make sense, because I **am**. You are, and therefore you are also. But you’re not chaos, no. I don’t know what you are. Maybe you are chaos, but you’re too disguised. Are you intentionally disguised? Maybe you don’t even know.

 

“As for your other questions, I call it the waiting room because that’s where I wait. I sit there all day when the little bell rings, and each time I have to wait for another person to solve the puzzle. The puzzle of the drink. The questions they ask me, jeez. So boring. At least you didn’t ask the boring questions. I had one kid in here and ugh. I would’ve just sent him to the queen myself, but even I’m not that heartless. At least I don’t believe I am. If you’re ever given the chance to know me more, maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me if I am.”

 

As the cat’s voice sliced through the coagulated mist, Mabel listened intently to each word, noting how the cat could really start to speak when he wanted to. It seemed they had a lot more in common than she thought. If nothing else, they were both social butterflies. She nodded, despite Cheshire still not caring about looking at her, just assuming this entire time that she had been following closely. Mabel could hardly make out the black cat in front of her, even though he was no more than a foot’s distance. A literal foot. Not a big one, but rather a smaller one. Maybe a dainty foot.

 

“Oh…” was all Mabel remarked, inspiring Cheshire to actually turn around with a bemused look on his face. At least it seemed bemused, from what the girl could make out past the fog. He opened his mouth and took a breath to make some snappy quip, but instantly stopped in his tracks and caused Mabel to smack her face right into his kitty back. Not that she really minded, as he really was as fluffy as he looked.

 

“…What’s wrong?” Mabel whispered into his fur, not moving her face away for a moment. It was almost comforting to feel such soft warmth. She was met with a sharp shushing, as the cat shallowly breathed and darted his gaze around them. His tail gradually fluffed up in the silence, and Mabel couldn’t really say she heard anything except for the slight rumble of the Cheshire Cat growling. Why was he growling? Was he mad at her for not being more interesting? Or something? She didn’t have much time to think on that before Cheshire bowed his head and turned to her, whispering nearly silently into her ear.

 

“…Run.”

 

“Wha- what do you mean –“

 

“RUN.”

 

The cat screeched the last word, immediately stooping down from his levitating perch to snag the neck portion of Mabel’s purple sweater into his teeth, giving it a sharp yank to convince her body to start moving. She let out a yelp and sure enough, her feet began moving in a steady pace to keep up with the cat that was essentially dragging her along. Glancing down and slightly to the side to make sure she didn’t accidentally trip over a stray root or tree, Mabel’s breathing was ragged and quick as she kept up with the other. When it seemed that she wasn’t going to be lagging behind, Cheshire let go of her sweater to let her run easier, beginning to focus entirely on guiding them the rest of the way to safety. She needed to get to the Crystal Oasis, and quickly.

 

Feet pounded the trodden earth in haste for life, though Mabel quickly realized in her frazzled mind that it wasn’t just the heavy thumps of her own pace, nor the loud ba-thumps of her frantic heart. There was something behind her, and it sounded big. Massive, really, but Mabel wasn’t about to turn around and see what it was. The earth was kicked up and mixed in with the pure white fog to taint the air around them, telling the cat at least that the further it crept up, the closer the beast was upon them. It wasn’t until a hot, searing pain entered the brunette’s back did she realize she had been swiped at, and automatic fat tears welled up in her eyes in response to the pain. She couldn’t stop though, as her body wouldn’t allow it. Her sweater’s was probably torn out, given that she could easily feel the rush of the chilled wind blowing past the frays, but there was no time to think on that. There was only thoughts of escape, of following the cat, of getting to safety.

 

“We’re not that far!” Cheshire yelled back, his glowing golden eyes narrowed in concentration. He looked as a black rocket, his angled body positioned just right for the air flow to not restrict his movements. Just how many times he’d flown like this, Mabel didn’t know, but he seemed too seasoned for just once or twice. Her breaths were much more forced and even more on the ‘hardly there’ side, yet she ignored her burning lungs crying out for a break, and continued on. Cheshire seemed trustworthy enough; more so than whatever it was that was currently heaving scorching, damp breaths in back of her, slicking down her sweater and hair from the condensation of airborne saliva. She was going to need a bath, if she made it out alive.

 

_**Thump, tha-thump, thump, tha-thump.** _

 

The beast was truly upon her, and for the life of her, Mabel just couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t being swiped at again. She could feel the very fur of the creature stiffly trickling her open wounds, causing her to cry out in both fear and pain. Cheshire whipped his head back, but was met with a sight that made his mouth drop and his eyes widen in panic. Mabel fell.

 

“KID.”

 

_**Tha-thump.** _

 

_**Tha-thump.** _

 

_**Tha-….thump.** _

 

Mabel’s eyes fluttered for a moment as her brain tried to tone down the cries of pain her back was signaling to it, and the brunette girl was still while there were heavy footfalls just behind her. Deafening sounds of what seemed to be sniffing resounded in her ears, making her clamp her hands over her ear drums just to keep them from bursting. It was probably a good thing she did that too, as the creature went back on its hind legs and lifted its black-horned head into the air, letting out a blood-curdling screech that caused Mabel’s body to freeze in utter, deathly panic. Cheshire was doing a 360-degree turn in the air and began racing back to the brunette just as the beast fell back to all fours, looming down over his newly acquired meal. She couldn’t even shake as her head was suddenly moving without her consent, her eyes needing to see the pure horror dribbling long, thick ropes of saliva down the heated jaws inches from her. The slimy mucus dripped down on her leg and stomach, but was too thick for even the sweater to begin absorbing the liquid. It was almost a solid. The salivation was more like a liquid mold to encase around the wanted object to replicate. It really was disgusting.

 

Towering above her was a horrendous beast of ash-grey fur that was almost like armor against its skin, and jutting out past the fur were four paws lined with a skin akin to ragged black leather, with blood-stained yellow claws poking out between the fat black digits. Each finger alone was the size of Mabel’s small, child-like hand, and the paw was about the size of her head. Thankfully the dingy claws weren’t impressive, though they had no problems tearing through her flesh as though she were composed of nothing more than slightly melted butter. Affixed to the admittedly small head were two jaws not unlike a lion’s, with long rows of needle-like teeth grinning down at her with a smile she didn’t think the creature was really in control of. The way its mouth was contorted caused the beast to always be in a constant grin, which was even more terrifying than if it were frowning at her. Two wide, blue eyes bore down on her, though the eyes themselves seemed cloudy, as though the beast had a vision impediment similar to cataracts. Mabel quirked a brow at that observation, but mostly at the realization that she wasn’t devoured yet. Was it taking its time? How much time had passed?

 

In reality, not even two seconds had passed, as the beast finally began to rear back and get ready to bear down its massive paws to squash Mabel where she laid in fear. The beast was easily seven or eight feet tall, making her small stature nothing to compare to. She couldn’t even close her eyes to protect herself from at least the vision of her own demise. Somehow she was so morbidly fascinated with her impending death, that time itself seemed to slow to allow her to fully experience her remaining seconds. The leathery mass of flesh drew itself high behind the shoulder of the creature, and Mabel could see the muscles gaining strength to crush her. How interesting. She didn’t have much time to think on that however, as there was suddenly a blinding light that flew overtop of her and lacerated into the monster without much resistance.

 

“Get up! What are you doing, taking a picture?” Cheshire snapped, and Mabel was instantly on her feet as though the cat had commanded it. She turned and went to return to the cat, only to find he wasn’t a cat anymore. Instead of the black cat with the golden swirls hovering before her, she was met with a tan man, possibly in his early to mid-twenties, sporting a ¾ sleeve length black button-up dress shirt and black pressed slacks. Interestingly enough, he was barefoot, but still was levitating in front of her as his dark hands glowed brightly, encased with golden flame. His golden eyes remained the same, with the long, cat-like black slits pierced through them, though the golden swirls were gone. He glared down at her when once again she was refusing to move, and gave a huff as he swatted one hand’s flames away to grab her sweater neck in his fist, forcing her to move behind him. He gave a surprisingly gentle push in the right direction, and returned his attentions on the beast that was now beginning to stand again.

 

“I’m not telling you again, now get a move on. Stay on the path, and run as quickly as you can. I’ll meet you there,” Cheshire cryptically said, though it wasn’t intentionally vague. It was more that he already knew the information he was trying to relay, and quite forgot that Mabel in fact didn’t. He assumed she knew right where to meet him, and what the place looked like, and where they even were going. Mabel didn’t really care to inquire further, since Cheshire seemed like he was busy, and with good reason. Without another word, the brunette closed her agape mouth and began running down the path that now seemed to open up for her. Was the cat controlling the path? Why didn’t he just part the forest for them, then? There were so many questions, and none of them were being answered.

 

When it felt like half an hour had passed and the skies weren’t changing from their sickly grey color, Mabel finally realized that she could actually see the sky again. Looking down around her as she slowed to a light jog, she saw the fog was rapidly departing, and she immediately came to an abrupt halt when she saw the exit of the forest. The trees ahead of her bowed overtop to create a wooden tunnel of dried branches and twisted limbs, revealing the bright clearing just past the small opening. Had night passed already? How long had they been walking? Or rather, running? And why wasn’t she sleepy? Her muscles ached from overexertion, and Mabel supposed it was alright to walk slowly to the clearing, since there were no more noises around her, and hadn’t been for at least fifteen minutes.

 

**~**

 

“No, no, no. I said ta pass me the cranberry crumpets, not the lemon ones! Good golly, you’d think I’d been askin’ for a hollerin’ fish with the way you follow die-rections.”

 

Mabel looked uneasily at the exit, stopping just before it when she heard a higher-pitched voice cut through the thickened cluster of trees she was concealed behind. This voice sounded familiar too. It had a twinge to it, like a string being plucked incorrectly after every few syllables. Almost hillbilly in a way. Finally braving the unknown, Mabel figured that this was where Cheshire had meant to reconvene, since this was where the path ended. She took a breath and stepped out from the wooded darkness into the light, and was surprised to see she was greeted with a vivid blue sky. Hadn’t it just been a sullen grey?

 

“- And then I saids ta the goat, I did say, you wanna take a ride with me over ta the bleedin’ fountain? An’ you know what that goat said!” bellowed the thick country accent, which was amazingly tied to a man that didn’t look anything like the country. He had a very large, slightly pink nose, and a long white beard that – did that beard have a bandage on it? Beneath the beard was a green and orange suit, half green, half orange, but not the suit and pants. The left-half was a mint green and the right-half was a sorbet orange, separated by a thick ribbon of dark, navy blue to add a bit of boundary. His pointed and slightly curled lapels were the same color blue, and the three buttons on his buttoned blazer were of different jewels: one diamond, one ruby, and one opal, in that order. Sitting neatly on his crown was a tall top hat with a wide brim, the entirety of the accessory filled with various calico squares, all keeping with the same tints of mint and green, even if each pattern was different.

 

“…Oh, it seems we have a guest,” came another voice, though this one was not as punctuated as the prior. This voice was more even toned and level-headed, and belonged to a man with greying, floofy hair and thick, black-rimmed glasses. His clothes were more understated, being a dark-toned ash-grey turtleneck sweater that threatened to engulf his large, square chin. He wore simple black slacks, though these were more fitted than pressed as Cheshire’s were. His shoes were worn on the rubber soles, and they seemed caked in mud and other environmental residues, despite the obvious upkeep the owner provided for them beneath the flaking soil.

 

“A-a guest?” stuttered a shaky voice, which perfectly complimented an equally shaking boy. He looked about Mabel’s age, and admittedly looked a lot like her. Mainly the fluffy brown hair and the wide, curious brown eyes. Or maybe they were paranoid eyes. Either worked, considering how much the boy was trembling. He wore a dull orange waistcoat atop a white button-up shirt, yet beneath a dark maroon tailcoat with two tails sticking out behind him, curled upwards towards the sky. His brown eyes couldn’t stop darting around, impeccably keeping in pace with his shallow breathing. Was he having a panic attack? He would certainly induce one if he hadn’t already. Mabel didn’t waste any more time in making introductions than she had, though she couldn’t shake off the feeling like she already knew these people.

 

“Hi, I’m Mabel! And I didn’t mean to interrupt. You see, I fell down a hole, or at least I think I did, and then I met a cat, but it turns out he’s not really a cat. Or maybe he’s not really a man. Anyway, this monster started chasing us, and I don’t know where he is, but he said to follow the path, and now I’m here. The path took me here, so I hope you don’t mind. This is all…really strange,” Mabel quickly summarized, bringing her long hair to rest on her shoulder for her to pet. She did that a lot whenever she was anxious, even if her other mannerisms and overall tone and expression suggested she was at ease in that moment. The trio before her looked at each other before smiling at the female brunette, and the white-haired, mismatched man pulled up a chair beside he and the shaking male brunette. Resting in front of them was a long, narrow table with a crisp, cold white linen draped elegantly overtop. Scattered almost in a haste on top of it were various dishes of crumpets, finger sandwiches, cups, saucers, small plates, napkins, testing forks, tea spoons, butcher knives, tea cakes, large cakes, slices of pies of various flavors, and small bowls filled with an assortment of chilled fruits. There was quite a lot to eat, and there were multiple teapots of a motley variety of colors and patterns, all filled with different kinds of tea.

 

“Make yerself at home, kiddo!” the man with the hat grinned a toothy grin, though admittedly some of those teeth were missing. At least the small bit of drool made up for it. Kind of. “I’m the hatter, ya see. I make hats all day and every day, and at one time, I even made hats for the queen!”

 

“W-we don’t t-talk about the qu-…quee-…” the nervous boy stammered, unable to even say the title of the person he was trying to talk about, to inform they didn’t talk of her.

 

“…What he means to say is that speaking of the queen in these parts is nearly illegal,” the grey-haired man clarified, to which the male brunette nodded quickly and went back to nibbling on the crust of his tiny tea cake. “The citizens of the Crystal Oasis and the Everglade Valley outlawed it, after everything she’s done. Also, hello, Mabel. This is Jaser, or as we like to call him, the White Rabbit. The hatter doesn’t ever say his real name, mostly because I don’t think he can remember it. We just call him the Mad Hatter, considering. Don’t worry about offending him by calling him that, though. He’s the one who came up with the name. By the by, I’m Oroiti, one of the Mock-Turtles. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mabel.”

 

The female brunette looked between the three of them as they were formally introduced, and couldn’t help but wonder why talking about the queen was illegal in these two places. What did she do? Whatever it was, it sounded horrible. Maybe they wouldn’t mind all that much if she asked them some questions, since Cheshire was a little more than confusing. Whether the cat meant to be confusing or not was a different matter entirely.

 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Mabel smiled warmly, already feeling at home enough to grab a plate and begin loading it down with as many sweets as it could hold. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions though. You see, I don’t really know where I am. I know I’m in Wonderland, but where **is**  Wonderland? There was no place like this back where I come from, at least not that I know of. But who is the queen? What has she done? And do you know the Cheshire Cat? He’s my friend, and I’m actually starting to worry about him.”

 

As though on cue, the same cat’s distorted and borderline nightmarish grin appeared, followed by the actual being. He was the same tanned man as before, though he quickly materialized shined black shoes on his feet and a black bowtie beneath his collar. With a wave of his hand, a shimmering golden waistcoat appeared on his torso, and a protracted black cane within the grasp of his palm. Still levitating in the air before the four of them, Cheshire leaned heavily on the cane and grinned at all of them, though his eyes were affixed to Mabel.

 

“Hey there, Star,” he chuckled softly, giving her a wink to seal the greeting. “I see you made it to the party. How do you like my friends? If I could call you all my friends. Maybe not. Maybe you shouldn’t be my friends. The kid’s my friend, but I don’t think he likes it very much.”

 

The White Rabbit shook slightly more when Cheshire’s eyes fell on him, though he did nothing outward in response aside from shoving the entire tea cake in his mouth. Couldn’t say anything stupid if you couldn’t say anything at all, right? This earned a hearty laugh from the cat-turned-man, who leaned back and sat in the air, holding onto his cane that was nestled snugly between his touching knees.

 

“I hear you encountered some problems out there, Chess,” the Mock-Turtle raised a brow as he stated, not really looking for an explanation when he looked to the side at the extravagant cat. “Must have been pretty bad if you had to don this costume.”

 

“Pah, costume! He calls this a costume! Can you believe it?” Cheshire gasped and sulked to Mabel, shaking his head slightly with a pouted lip. “…It was fairly bad. Nothing I couldn’t handle, of course. I see a complete lack of thanks on **someone's**  part, though. No need to thank me, no need at all. Or maybe there is every need, considering you’re able to sit on that chair rather comfortably.”

 

Mabel gasped when she realized she hadn’t thanked Cheshire properly, and was about to until she wondered what he meant about sitting comfortably. She closed her open mouth to really think about it, looking at him in confusion as he simply gazed at her with a smug, cocky look. Somehow Mabel had a feeling that that was really the only look she would ever get from the cat. It wasn’t until she began adjusting herself in her chair as all eyes fell on her that she realized her back wasn’t in pain anymore. Come to think of it, her sweater wasn’t ripped either. How…?

 

“Wait, don’t say anything. I want to guess. You’re wondering…how…cheese is made,” Cheshire quirked a brow at the female brunette, making her glance up in initial confusion. “Nah, I’m just kidding, kid. Yeah, I fixed your back and your sweater. No big deal. Magic. Cat-stuff. All good. You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

“Th-thank you!” Mabel quickly blurted out, though she was really amazed at the magic trick Cheshire performed without her knowing. Just how long had her back and sweater been patched up? She supposed the answer to that question wasn’t that important. There were many things to think about, many things to wonder and get answers to. It seemed like she wouldn’t get anywhere without straight-forward questions, so she had to think on her words deliberately. Not like she never did before, but she especially had to now. Mabel didn’t get the chance to even voice her first question before Cheshire and the Mock-Turtle were engaged in their own conversation, and the young girl was content to just listen to their exchange as she began working on devouring the sweets she piled high before her; earning her a quick glance and grin from the cat.

 

“How many survived?” Cheshire asked once his attentions were back on the Turtle. He was met with a sad shake of the head and a deep sigh that carried more weight than any of the words that followed.

 

“Not many. About a hundred left to gain refuge here in the Oasis, but only about two dozen actually made it. It’s worse than we thought, Chess.”

 

“Worse? How worse?”

 

Everything seemed to pause at the question, even the very air and clouds looming above now halting in wait for the Turtle to answer Cheshire’s question. The cat glanced around and apparently noticed the same as Mabel did, which made the cat’s eyebrows furrow closer together as he drummed up many ideas and thoughts on what it could be to cause such destruction. The Turtle looked briefly around the table at the patrons before letting his gaze fall back on Cheshire, his eyes narrowing just the slightest.

 

“…The Jabberwocky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment more familiar characters show up and perfectly fit into your jokes about them. Mostly the Mock-Turtle(neck) and Dipper's insatiable PTSD concerning Bill. Yes. I also didn't feel comfortable not giving them proper alternate names, so they will always be referred to as their assigned characters, but hey, there's their actual names too. Just because.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a lot of artwork for a BillDip Alice in Wonderland, but I wanted to make a slight spin on that idea and bring in Mabel. This isn't going to be any sort of romantic MaBill, as Mabel is twelve in this fic, but I do like the chemistry of the two strong characters, so I wanted to explore a platonic relationship. This will have an ending, which I'm super excited about. This is my first official fanfiction involving chapters, which on thinking about, maybe Almond Cookies should have had chapters to be more fleshed out, but hey. Hindsight.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope it lives up to my own expectations.


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